


Second Flight

by calenlily



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenlily/pseuds/calenlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She'll rise again soon, you know," he comments.</p><p>She gives the barest of nods. "I know." He is pleased to note her voice is steady, with no trace of anxiety or fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabaceanbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabaceanbabe/gifts).



He hears her arrival on the weyr ledge, but she does not come in immediately. After several minutes he finally walks out to meet her, and finds her frozen in looking back over the Bowl. A soft smile curves her lips, and he follows her gaze to see Ramoth in leisurely flight; he understands instantly why she has lingered. He pauses wordlessly a step behind her and watches as well. He will not disturb her.

The young queen is in splendid shape, as her effortless long wingbeats attest, suffering no ill effects from her recent journey through time. And - he doubts his eyes for a second, but he's definitely not just imagining it - her hide is beginning to deepen to a brighter gold.

It is Lessa's soft sigh that breaks the silence, and she half-turns to him. He tucks her under his arm as they walk in.

"She'll rise again soon, you know," he comments.

She gives the barest of nods. "I know." He is pleased to note her voice is steady, with no trace of anxiety or fear.

\---

Even knowing more or less what to expect, she is thrown by the sudden rush of intense and unsettling sensations. She looks around frantically, more frightened than she would care to admit.

Instantly, F'lar is at her side. There is a heat in his gaze that belies other reasons for his presence as well, but his solicitousness is not feigned. Though he doesn't know if she will understand, for her eyes are already clouding, he hastens to reassure her. "Let yourself go," he whispers. "I'll be there to catch you. I promise."

And then he slips away, falling back to join the other bronze riders who are beginning to congregate around her. She loses track of him, of all of them, for she no longer has attention to spare for anyone but Ramoth.

\---

Slipping from sharing a mind with the dragons slowly spiraling down back to awareness of her own small earthbound body feels like falling. But he is there to catch her, just as he promised. The lines of her lover's nude body are welcomingly familiar, his strong arms are steadying, his mouth is hot on hers, and with a glad cry she crashes against him. It's a "yes" and a "please" and a "now!"

She kisses him as if she were drowning.

She thinks she has never been so wet as she is now, so aching and desperate-needy. Driven to distraction by her body's ardent demands, she clings to him. Were they melded into one body, they could not be close enough.

And he is wrapped up in the same torrent of feeling. He clutches her to him - his touch far rougher than usual, but that is only to be expected, and she revels in the rawness of this passion that has swept them both up.

\---

When she wakes, Lessa's mind is finally clear and bact to full awareness of herself. She is utterly sated and spent; definitely sore, but far too pleased to care about that at the moment. Her hair is hopelessly mussed, lips bruised and swollen, thighs sticky with his seed. She can feel _his_ arms holding her close, her legs tangled with his, and the firm mass of his body all along the length of her own. She curls in to the warmth of his body, to the embrace that is so comforting and familiar, knowing without having to open her eyes who she will find in her bed. It is that knowledge that gives her the courage to actually look.

She opens her eyes to her weyrmate's beloved face. In that moment, she realizes just how much she had feared the chance that it might not be him. No matter; that is one worry she doubts she will have again.

A lock of dark curling hair has fallen across F'lar's face; Lessa reaches out and pushes it out of his eyes. He smiles sleepily down at her.

"F'lar," she breathes, almost reverently.

"What, were you expecting someone else?" he teases, smirking.

She slaps him playfully for that. "No!" she exclaims, surprising even herself with her own vehemence.

His arms tighten around her, and the look he gives her then is possessive, proud, and exceedingly tender.

"Don't even joke about that," she murmurs.

F'lar nods in acknowledgement, and kisses her forehead.

Lessa relaxes again, and smiles to herself. She understands now, so much more, why such a big deal is made about mating flights.

She does not tell F'lar this. He is smug enough already, she thinks.

Absently she traces abstract designs across his chest.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you, woman?" he taunts affectionately.

"Any reason why I should?" she replies tartly.

He responds to the challenge of her question with a pleased laugh. "Absolutely none, love."

Very much satisfied by that response, Lessa allows him to pull her to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Because "the dragons made us do it" is always fun to write.


End file.
